


Loki Makes Peace

by auntieomega



Series: A Marvelish Romance [8]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Humor, Avenger Loki, BDSM, Beating, Blow Jobs, Catheters, Cock & Ball Torture, Daddy Issues, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gags, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, Masochist Loki, Mpreg, Nipple Clamps, Object Penetration, Past Child Abuse, Pets, Pregnant Loki, Pregnant Sex, Rimming, Sweet/Hot, Tension, Truncheon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 04:41:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3882691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auntieomega/pseuds/auntieomega
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Although still haunted by his miscarriage, Loki explores becoming pregnant again. But as he struggles to ensure the baby’s safety, he must confront his fear of his husband’s green alter ego and make peace with his own past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loki Makes Peace

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This fic contains a scene with catheter play. Also, there is a scene where characters discuss surviving child abuse.

Loki stood naked in the dry shower, trying to remain as still as possible. Candles glowed in the shadowy bathroom, and he could hear Exitmusic pouring out of the bedroom, filling the flickering darkness with languorous angst. His wrists were cuffed and bound to a prisoner belt lashed around his slender waist. Two vicious little clamps chewed into each of his nipples, fastened with chains to a metal ring around the shaft of his cock. As long as he maintained an erection, the clamps didn’t hurt quite as much, but the catheter gave having a full erection its own kind of pain.

The valve of the balloon catheter was closed, preventing him from urinating. His full bladder ached for release, but he knew some of the pain he felt in his lower belly was from the ball stretcher and weights attached to his testicles. Every time Bruce, on his knees eagerly rimming Loki, gave his trickster an excited shove, the weights would swing to and fro, making Loki dizzy with pain.

Loki closed his eyes and tilted his head back, enjoying the contrast of the warm ministrations of Bruce’s tongue with the subtle agony building in his chest, stomach, and balls. He moaned around the gag. It was the same one he had once worn as Thor’s prisoner. Thor, no doubt thinking himself droll, had given it to Loki and Bruce as a wedding gift. It had been a…gag gift. Obnoxious fucking Thor. But the last laugh was Loki’s, for they actually used the dreadful thing. And Loki fucking owned it. Suck that, Thor.

Suddenly Bruce hugged Loki’s hips, painfully compressing his full bladder. Loki lost his balance and crouched atop Bruce for a moment. Bruce scrambled, rather inelegantly, out from underneath Loki. He popped up, wearing a cop hat, holding a truncheon, and massaging his jaw. “Are you okay, baby?” he asked Loki.

Loki nodded. Bruce examined him anyway, stroking his hair while he checked Loki’s pulse, caressing Loki’s fingers while he checked his wrists. Loki shivered and tried to suppress a groan as Bruce palpitated his swollen bladder. Bruce kissed his chest and then stared into his eyes. He smirked suddenly and put the cop hat on Loki. “Fuck, you’re adorable.”

Loki rolled his eyes. Bruce planted a kiss between them, then began unbuckling the gag. “I know this is some sort of reclaiming something or symbol of whatever to you, but I can’t bear any more of it. I need you to talk to me. And I need your beautiful mouth.”

Loki flew at him as soon as he was free. They kissed for a long time, as if reunited after an arduous separation. After they pulled apart, Bruce tucked Loki’s hair behind his ear and sighed. “Poor Loki. You need more, don’t you?”

He leaned his head into Bruce’s hand. “Maybe the truncheon?” he asked shyly.

Bruce was still for a minute. “Okay,” he said finally. “Sure.”

Loki often found it difficult to get enough thud. He could withstand Thor’s blows. He could take Hulk’s onslaughts better than most. Bruce, by himself, had little hope of actually harming Loki. But sometimes Loki desperately needed to be harmed.

To this end, he had spelled the truncheon to deliver a heavier blow. He withheld this information from Bruce, not wanting his husband to feel inadequate or to worry about hurting him.

Bruce cracked the truncheon across Loki’s stomach. Loki doubled over slightly, wondering if he should have made the truncheon more potent. And then the truncheon hit his full bladder. The organ quaked with painful spasms. What Bruce probably intended as a light tap to Loki’s tender balls with the ensorcelled truncheon sent Loki to his knees groaning.

Loki shuddered as Bruce helped him to his feet. He leaned against Bruce with his eyes shut, his body aflutter with pain. Bruce held him. “Are we there yet?” he asked softly. Loki nodded against him and sighed as Bruce’s short square nails grazed his back.

Bruce dropped behind Loki. Loki tried not to flinch as Bruce pulled Loki’s ass cheek aside and shoved the truncheon up his hole. He grunted as the unyielding wood beat and bruised his bowels. The weight hanging from his balls swung in time to the frenzied thrusting. A frustrated “Oh,” escaped him as fingers stroked his aching bladder.

Bruce unclamped the catheter. Relief flooded Loki. His urine dribbled in a thin stream down the shower drain. And then the truncheon was across his belly, cold and solid, pressing the urine out as Bruce’s cock invaded him from behind. The warmth and humanity of the cock after the truncheon brought tears to Loki’s eyes. He bucked his ass against his husband’s hips and moaned when he felt Bruce spray against his walls.

Bruce removed the ball stretcher and weights, sucking and kissing Loki’s balls and rubbing Loki’s thighs. Carefully, he removed the catheter and the cock ring, unhooking the chains binding the ring to the nipple clamps. Freeing Loki’s hands, he unfastened the prisoner belt. He rubbed and kissed his way up Loki’s belly. He freed Loki’s nipples, comforting them with his tongue and sucking them into his mouth.

As he began working his way back down, Loki wrapped his hands around either side of his head and pulled him back up. “You forgot my lips, you silly Bruce,” Loki scolded.

“I already freed and kissed your lips some time ago.”

“Shut up and fucking kiss me.”

To Loki’s delight, Bruce played with his ears and neck while they kissed. And then he descended to suck Loki’s cock. Loki leaned back against the shower wall, closing his eyes. A wonderful hint of soreness reminded him of the catheter. He felt as if he were going to melt and follow his urine down the drain. He was thankful when Bruce threw a hand against his navel and pinned him to the wall. He came in a quivering hiss that grew to a roar as he shot jet after jet after jet down Bruce’s throat.

They showered together. Loki basked in the hot water. Time elongated like honey dripping from a spoon. Everything within him was quiet and still. No questions begged answers; no voices taunted from the past. There was only the moment and the water and Bruce rubbing him down as if he were some king’s prized stallion. There was only peace--glorious, glorious peace.

And then suddenly Bruce howled and squeezed him to bits. “Oh, Loki! Yes! Yes! I kept wondering when you were going to be ready to try again.”

As Loki wondered what the fuck Bruce was going on about, a chill of orgasm slid through him, its origin just above his cock. He knew what he would find even before a glance confirmed it. A fertilization stoma. Another rush of sensation almost pulled his legs out from under him. The things edges were ten times as sensitive as the glans of his penis, and Bruce was stroking it as if it were a cat.

Loki’s back slid against the wall. When he tried to form words, nothing intelligible passed his lips.

“We have it for three days, right?” Bruce asked with giddy enthusiasm. “I’ll take off work. We’ll order in. We’ll do nothing but fuck—and watch ‘Robot Chicken.’ I guess we can watch lots of ‘Robot Chicken’ in between since you love it so much.”

Loki managed to catch Bruce’s hand. He pulled it away and held it. “No. I’m not ready to do that again.”

“Why did you cast the spell?”

Loki sighed, still holding Bruce’s hand, but unable now to look into his eyes. “I didn’t. It happened on its own.”

“Oh… But…it works the same way?”

“Don’t fuck with it. It’s not fun. Unless we fertilize it, it’s just frustrating.”

Bruce smiled. “So, let’s give it what it wants.”

“I’m cold,” said Loki. Bruce exited the shower. When he returned, he wrapped Loki in a towel. With another, he began drying Loki’s hair.

“I know it was a terrible experience, baby,” he said softly. “But it’s been almost a year--”

“Ten months, two weeks, and three days.”

Bruce stared at him sadly. “I know. I was there.”

Loki refused to comment further and slid into bed. He turned off the music, not wanting to spoil it. While Bruce cleaned up, Loki lay in the candlelit dark and stared at the ceiling. Feynman uncurled himself from the foot of the bed to purr on Loki’s chest. Loki’s thoughts spiraled deeper into melancholy as he stroked the brown tabby. They had adopted Feynman two months after they lost the baby in Houston. And while Loki loved the cat and Bruce adored him, and although they also had Daenerys, some quiet shadow haunted their world, some emptiness.

He stirred up when Bruce brought him some blueberry lemon sorbet. Bruce sat on his side of the bed with his own dish. Feynman curled at Bruce’s feet. Loki played with his spoon. “I don’t like when you put the lemon peel in here.”

“It’s lemon zest. It’s the most flavorful part of the lemon.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“Would you like me to get you something else?”

Loki sighed. “No.” They ate in silence, Feynman weaving designs around them and purring.

They settled into bed. As Loki was about to wave out the candles, Bruce stayed his hand. “Loki, I’m sorry. I need to talk about this.” Confusion and hurt frayed the edges of his usually calm voice. “I thought-- Before, you seemed like you really wanted a baby.”

Loki’s jaw tightened with annoyance. “That’s right. Last time, you didn’t want me to get pregnant. I had to press you into it.”

“I know. You wanted a family. Family was something I never wanted.” He paused, his gaze sliding from Loki and wandering into the darkness. “For most people, the word ‘family’ seems to call to mind warm hugs and apple pie or something. For me it’s black eyes, the taste of my own blood. Being told over and over that I’m a mistake--that I shouldn’t exist.”

Mute with shock, Loki stroked Bruce’s face. Bruce had never mentioned his childhood before, and Loki had never wondered why. It seemed to him that Bruce had generated spontaneously, fully clothed and formed, a smile on his serene face, one hand holding a spirulina smoothie and the other waiting for Loki’s cock. Yet, somehow, he had lived a life before Loki, a life that sounded darker and sadder than Loki would ever have imagined. “Your father?” guessed Loki.

“Yes, he was quick tempered and cruel. He was worse when he drank—and he drank often. He was such an asshole, but…sometimes,” said Bruce softly, his tone confessional, “despite everything, I still wanted to love him. I would catch him in these quieter moments—vulnerable, small—and I would try to connect.” He gave a slight, self-deprecating snort. “When I was five I found him late one night in the kitchen, just standing there, crying. He looked so sad. I wrapped by arms around him. He wrenched me loose, snapping my arm, then punched me in the stomach and called me a faggot. That was as close to affection as the man could come.”

Loki stroked Bruce’s arm and stomach, as if the boy’s damage could somehow be comforted by touching the man. “Oh, Bruce. That’s horrible.”  
“The horrible part was when he turned on my mom. I couldn’t protect her.”

Loki couldn’t stop himself. “She should have protected you.”

Bruce stared at him, dark eyes catching the candlelight. “She tried. She died trying to protect me. I was eight. The car was packed—we were going to escape—but-- He killed her. He smashed her skull into the pavement as if she were a ragdoll, as if she were nothing.”

“Fuck,” whispered Loki. “All this time… When we’ve been talking about shitty fathers…” He couldn’t continue, stunned, crushed by a withering sense of shame.

“Yeah, I know what it’s like to feel rejected by the people who are supposed to love you.” Bruce reached out and squeezed Loki’s hand. “And no one deserves to feel that way, especially not you.”

“You must think I’m so ridiculous,” Loki said in a small voice. “You’ve been through so much, and I…”

Bruce rubbed his thumb up Loki’s palm. “I think you’re wonderful. And the idea of anyone harming you in any way kills me. Injuries don’t have to be physical. The things we went through are different. But the effects of different kinds of abuse can be similar.”

Loki felt as if he were comprehending gravity for the first time. “Is that why you wanted to rehabilitate me? Because you recognized something--”

“Needy and wounded?”

“Fragile and good, if I remember correctly,” said Loki, who did remember correctly and was rather insulted by the word ‘needy.’

“No. I knew it would be a crime against nature for anything so sexy to be evil, so that meant you had to be saved.”

Loki’s cock twitched. He grinned and entwined his feet with Bruce’s. The shroud of what they had just been discussing, however, fell over him again and stole his joy. “Your father sounds like a monster.”

“Monster.” He snorted. “That was one of his favorite words, actually.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?” Loki shivered a little and snuggled closer to Bruce.

“It was irrelevant data. I’ve moved beyond all of that. I only mention it now because I want you to understand why I was so reluctant to have a baby before.”

“But now you want one.”

Bruce rose up on one elbow. “Once we could feel Paisley and everything began to seem real, I had this sense of—something so amazing, Loki. Like we were righting some catastrophic wrong, like we were rewriting history. Your background, mine—both corrected with a single brilliant stroke. A balance restored and everything made right.”

“It didn’t turn out that way.”

“It could if we tried again.” Bruce’s knuckles caressed Loki’s jaw. “We would make such good parents, Loki. Fuck, we could write books on all of the things parents should never do. I want to make a baby with you. Let’s try again.”

Loki wanted, with every fiber of his being, to say yes. “No.” The word trembled on his lips. “Bruce-- I love you, but I can’t.”

“I know you’re scared, but it won’t be like last time--”

“I’m not scared,” said Loki, his anger flaring. “There are all kinds of reasons why this is a bad idea. Last time--” He shuddered, unable to continue. “What if next time it’s Hulk? He can’t ever seem to get too close to me without wanting to kill me or rape me. What happens then?”

“I have a plan for that. I’ve been working on something.” His fingers glided down Loki’s stomach. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He slid a nail along the edge of the stoma, teasing it to wakefulness. “C’mon, Loki. You know you want it.”

Loki’s body betrayed him, yearning toward Bruce’s touch with waves of sharp, aching need. Loki pulled away and sat up. “You always laugh when I say ‘I love you more,’ but I do. I never tell you ‘no.’ Even when I’m scared, or bored, or in pain—I rarely ever say ‘no.’ But this is too much.” Saying it aloud was almost unbearable. “I would never ask you to endure that again. I love you too much. I love you more.”

Bruce studied him for a long moment. “This isn’t a contest.” With a heavy sigh, he turned over on his side. “Goodnight, Loki.”

Loki snuffed out the candles with a spell, then lay on his back in the dark, his head filled with the scents of smoke and candle wax. He stared at the dark, wide awake, feeling strange and uncertain. He was on the verge of tears when Bruce rolled over and pulled him close. “Bruce,” Loki whispered.

“We’ve talked enough for one night. I just didn’t want you thinking I was pissed at you or something. I love you.” He nuzzled Loki’s hair aside and kissed his neck.

Loki turned and pressed his ass against him. “I love you,” he said, but he left the ‘more’ off this time.

***

Bruce finished loading the dishwasher and leaned on the counter. Across from him, Loki, wrapped in nothing but his black robe, perched at the breakfast bar with his tablet. The sorcerer tapped the screen with a resolved finger and smirked in a self-congratulatory fashion. “Another pithy tweet?” Bruce asked him.

“I have many followers,” said Loki, engrossed in his little screen.

“That’s great. Can you put that up for just a minute?”

“I’m busy.”

“We need to talk.”

Loki shrugged. “Fine. We’re talking.”

Bruce sighed. “I’m worried about you.”

Loki sighed. “What now?”

“You seem to be getting a stoma every other week. The one this morning is the fourth one you’ve had that just appeared on its own.”

“Yeah. Number four.”

“This isn’t normal, is it? What’s happening?”

Loki yawned without looking up from his tablet. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I asked Thor to--”

Baleful blue-green eyes locked onto his; the tablet collapsed into its folder. “You did what???”

“I asked Thor--”

“How DARE you discuss anything about my body or my anything with fucking Thor!”

“Loki, I didn’t know what else to do. I’m worried sick about you. You keep getting these stomas, and you’re distant, and moody—even for you. He’s the only person I could think of who might be able to access data--”

“FUCK!!!” Loki’s hands balled into fists. “You’re so fucking infuriating! Nothing’s wrong with me!”

Bruce let the apartment stop echoing. In a quiet voice he asked, “Then what’s happening?”

“It’s just my body,” said Loki bitterly. “It wants to have a baby with you.”

Bruce sat with that for a moment. He leaned over the counter toward his pissy trickster. “In that case, can I take your body out for a drink?”

Loki regarded him without the least bit of amusement. “No,” he said flatly, opening his tablet, “because my head would have to talk to you.”

Bruce pulled himself up from the counter and took a step back. “You know, I think your body and I get along fabulously, but that head and I might need marriage counseling.”

Loki’s eyes swam with tears. He shielded his face behind his hands and began to cry delicately into them.

Bruce was beside him in an instant. “Loki, I’m sorry.” He pulled Loki into a hug, but Loki remained folded tight in his own bundle of sadness. “Oh, sweet Loki. Don’t cry. I’m so sorry.” After a long while, Loki relaxed. Bruce rubbed his back and kissed his hair. “I’m sorry, baby. That was a shitty thing to say.”

“Yeah, you’re really shitty sometimes,” Loki sniffled.

Bruce sighed and silently vowed not to bring up stomas nor babies nor anything related to them again.

***

Bruce hung up his jacket and retreated to his office. He thought about making out the futon, but decided that required too much effort. He hurt all over. Kicking off his shoes, he lay down, shivering, and pulled the throw from the futon’s back over him.

The door cracked open. “Bruce?”

“Loki, baby, you need to stay away from me. I have the flu—a strain that wasn’t in this year’s vaccine.”

Loki knelt beside his head. “You’re sick?” His voice was small and incredulous.

“I have some meds to shorten the duration. But there’s no reason you should get sick, too.” Loki’s hands felt wonderfully cool against his skin, but he had to object. “Don’t touch me, baby. I’m contagious. You shouldn’t be so close to me.”

“I’ll heal myself.” Loki peered at him strangely. “I’ve never seen you sick before.”

“I have a strong immune system.” He paused as Loki’s icy fingers slid up his throat. “This is no big deal.” Now they were on the sides of his face, so cool, so comforting. “It’s just unpleasant.” A solid blanket of cold Loki hand pressed against his forehead. Troubled blue-green eyes peered into his. “I need to sleep.” He groaned as Loki pulled him up, then slithered underneath him, pulling his head onto a thin pillow of trickster lap.

“So sleep,” said Loki gently.

“Loki…” He wanted to protest further, but Loki’s fingers stroking his hair stole his will.

The stomas had created a strange undercurrent of tension in their relationship. A tension that tore tiny holes in the closeness they shared, that seemed to threaten, by small, bitter increments, something he had imagined unassailable. Now, reassured by Loki’s gentle touch and dizzy with fever, he could pretend that everything was certain and effortless, that nothing would ever come between them.

***

“Bruce. Wake up. You need to drink this.”

Bruce woke slowly, dislodging Feynman from his chest. It took him a moment to realize why he was in his office. Loki thrust a cup in his face. Bruce blinked at it. “What is this?”

“It’s ginger broth with sea salt, lemon juice, and fresh garlic.”

A little mystified, Bruce took it and drank, wincing.

Loki knelt in front of him, studying him. “Is it bad?”

“My throat hurts. It’s fine.” He hastened to further reassure Loki. “Garlic is a natural antiviral. That was a good recipe. How did you come up with it?”

“You forget, I am a great sorcer--” Loki gave a defeated sigh. “The internet.” A pained expression crossed Loki’s unusually weary face. He climbed up on the futon and gathered Bruce in his arms. “I’ve been online all night,” he said, a little brokenly. “You’re going to die.” He began crying in earnest.

“Loki, Loki, Loki. It’s okay, baby. I don’t know what you read, but I’m not dying. It’s just the flu. Influenza usually only kills people who are very young or very old. I’m neither of those.”

Loki pulled away to look at him. “But you will die. Someday.”

“Right…” Bruce had the sick feeling this was about to become some sort of weird Loki spat. “Because I’m mortal. You knew this. You rub it in my face all of the time.”

“Of course, I knew it but… I never really thought about it before. You’re always so healthy.” He swallowed, eyes brimming with tears. “Somehow, I thought this was forever.”

Bruce grasped both of Loki’s hands and squeezed them. “Whatever fraction of forever I have is yours.”

Loki fell against him. They hugged for a long while. Finally, Loki heaved a great sigh and said, “I want to try again. I want us to have a child together.”

Bruce held his Norse god tight. He understood what a concession this was for Loki and made him a solemn promise. “This time, Loki, we’ll take every precaution. We’ll do everything right. Nothing bad will happen.”

***

Loki sat at the breakfast bar to watch Bruce make breakfast. “So, it’s official,” said Loki. “I’m pregnant.”

“That’s great,” said Bruce as he took down the French press for coffee.

“Don’t make any for me,” Loki told him. “I’m not going to have any caffeine this pregnancy.”

Bruce paused in front of him. “A moderate amount of caffeine shouldn’t hurt anything.”

“I’m not taking any chances this time.”

“Baby, you didn’t miscarry because you drank coffee. You miscarried because you hit the side of a building.”

Loki tapped blotches in the granite. “There’s something else I won’t be doing for a while--working with the Avengers.” He looked up as Bruce’s hand stroked his. They held each other’s gaze for a moment.

Bruce put the French press back in the cabinet.

Loki frowned at him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m giving up caffeine with you. There’s no reason you should suffer alone.”

***

Later that day:

As one creature, they crept onto Tony’s sleek couch and dissolved there. Loki didn’t even bother with a pretense of sitting normally. He drooped against Bruce with his forehead nestled against Bruce’s shoulder.

“Are you two sick?” asked Tony.

“No,” Bruce told him. “Loki’s pregnant.”

“That’s great!” said Pepper.

“This is welcome news,” said Thor. The others chimed in with their congratulations and well wishes. Bruce wished he and Loki had been in a state to accept their friends’ attentions more gracefully. He found himself cringing repeatedly, and Loki never even looked up.

“Yeah,” said Tony. “Congratulations.” He leered at Bruce. “So, what—you’re pregnant, too?”

“No.” Bruce almost laughed despite his headache. “Loki has sworn off caffeine, so I did, too.”

“That’s sweet,” smiled Pepper.

“That’s crazy,” said Tony.

After a while, Loki began to snore, and Tony motioned for Bruce to follow him. After carefully arranging Loki on the couch, Bruce escaped with Tony into the inventor’s lab. Tony flashed him a grin. “And you wondered why a lab should have an espresso machine.”

“No,” said Bruce. “I can’t. It wouldn’t be fair to Loki.”

Tony shook his head, smirking. “Alright. I was just trying to help.” He dropped into an office chair and kicked another one at Bruce.

Bruce held to the back of the chair instead of sitting in it. “Actually,” he said, “now that you mention it… Since Loki won’t be working with the Avengers for a while, I was hoping maybe he could help you with a few of your projects. He’s full of all sorts of Asgardian knowledge. And he’s brilliant. He’s utterly brilliant.”

Tony stared at him for a long moment. He nodded slowly. “Okay. Sure.” He turned away suddenly and pulled something out of the air. He waved some imaginary thing held between his thumb and index finger at Bruce. “Hey, look! You just got a donation allowing you to bring an additional full time researcher to your green energy project. I highly recommend Loki. I hear he’s brilliant.” Tony leaned toward him confidentially. “I also hear he’s a demon in the sack. But you might need to give him some coffee.”

Bruce had to hold his head to laugh. “Thanks. Tony—you know I wasn’t asking--”

“I know. But this way he gets to mess up your shit and mine. Everybody wins.”

Bruce turned serious. “Now that he’s pregnant, I need to speed up work on the Defensive Mist project.”

Tony’s face no longer held a trace of his usual humor. “I hate that fucking project.”

“I need to confirm purity and concentration. It has to be the same concentration every time to be effective. Can I use your lab to run the necessary tests?”

“What does Loki think about this?”

Bruce didn’t want to lie to Tony. “He needs to feel safe.” That much was true.

Tony scrubbed his chin and sighed. “Yeah. Okay. I think it’s stupid and it sucks, but I’ll help you. Let’s do it next week, after you’ve gotten the coffee monster off your back.”

***

Loki waited for Bruce’s signal, then let the power crackle to life in his right hand. Pointing a finger at the mouth of the clear glass globe, he filled it with a hissing spray that sparkled in the bright lights of Tony’s lab. Loki watched his scientist and the inventor playing with their toys a few feet away from him. Normally, he enjoyed working with them on projects, but this mysterious experiment filled him with a sense of dread.

“Okay. Great. Let’s measure that,” said Bruce, checking the readings on the screen. He grinned and moved aside to let Tony look. “I think he has it.”

“Yeah, he’s got it down. That’s three times as potent as the first run and that’s the fifth yield at the same concentration.”

“That should do it, right? What do you think?”

“Aerosolized adamantium. Fuck. I think I just helped you make a big fucking mistake, that’s what I think.” Tony backed against a desk and sighed. “So, what wine goes best with creating something to kill your best friend, red or white?”

Loki swept toward them, ice in his veins. “What did you say?”

Tony glanced at Loki, then rounded on Bruce. “You didn’t tell him? You had him help develop this, and you didn’t tell him?” Loki tried to get Tony’s attention while Bruce tried to calm the inventor. Tony turned to Loki. “You could kill him. If you use this on him, you could kill him.”

Loki looked at Bruce in horror. “Bruce? Is this true?”

“’Could’ just means something’s possible. There could be other outcomes.”

Loki closed the distance between them. His voice slithered from his throat. “Tell me what we just did.”

Bruce eyed him steadily. “We created a tool for you to use to protect yourself and our child against the Hulk.”

“A weapon,” said Tony. “That could kill him.”

“I don’t understand,” said Loki. “I’ve just been casting metal dust.”

“Adamantium can cut Hulk,” explained Tony. “So now we’ve equipped you with a means of sending a billion tiny razors into his respiratory system.”

“It should stop him,” said Bruce.

Tony glared at him. “It should kill him.”

“That sounds horrible,” said Loki.

“Yeah,” said Tony, rubbing the back of his neck. “If they start awarding Nobel prizes for advances in batshit, we’re contenders.”

Bruce’s gaze held fast to Loki. “I wanted to give you something you could use at a distance, and I thought this delivery system would be less traumatic for you than, say, cutting off my head or something like that. This is powerful and efficient—elegant. It’s a perfect solution.”

“Except for the part where you die,” said Tony.

As Loki tried to say one of the million things swarming in his head, Bruce told him, “You can’t understand how frightened I am of something happening to you because of him. I would never forgive myself…”

“But I’m not comfortable having a…weapon capable of killing you.”

“Neither am I,” said Tony.

Bruce picked up the hand Loki had been using to cast spells, brought it to his lips, and kissed the palm. “I trust you,” he said softly, looking into Loki’s eyes. “I’ve never trusted anyone so much in my life.”

***

“We have to name him,” said Bruce. He lay on the couch with his knees bent, his tablet propped on his thighs, and Feynman pressed against his hip.

Loki, reclining on Bruce’s shins, rested his chin on Bruce’s knee and strained to be diplomatic. “We don’t have to name him now. We can call him Fetus Week 24 and so on. We can wait until after he’s born for a real name.”

“But everything’s going to be so chaotic then. If we do it now, we can take our time, and there will be less pressure.”

“You’re looking at a fucking baby names site right now, aren’t you?”

Bruce’s expression turned sheepish. “Three, actually.”

Loki sighed. “Let’s hear it, then.”

“What about Aiden? It means ‘little fire.’ It has a pleasant sound.”

“Meh. Next.”

“Avery. It kind of reminds me of trees in the wind.”

Loki shrugged. “It’s all right.”

“Axel?”

“Are we going to work our way through the entire fucking alphabet like this?”

“Are you hungry?” Bruce asked gently.

Loki glared at him. “My blood sugar is fine.” He abandoned Bruce’s shins, pulled his tablet from the cocktail table, and curled in the nest of pillows at his end. After a few minutes he stretched, digging his feet beneath Bruce’s ass. “Pepper doesn’t like Axel either.”

“Pepper? I thought this was something we would do together, but… Sure. Group project.”

Loki snickered.

“What?”

“She says to tell you no River, Ocean, or Sky and to keep you away from the spice rack.”

“That’s fine, but I’m vetoing anything Lord of the Rings or Game of Thrones related.”

“Voldemort?”

Bruce sighed. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

Feeling slightly ashamed, Loki retreated a little further into his side of the couch and began perusing baby names. He couldn’t find any he liked. Bruce’s laughter pulled Loki from his search. “Something amuses you?”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

Loki drew up straighter. “Why are you sorry?”

“It isn’t funny.” Bruce unsuccessfully fought laughter. “And I certainly don’t think it’s funny.” He lost his battle completely. Feynman ran under the cocktail table. Loki watched Bruce in stony silence. “Tony,” Bruce wheezed finally. “Tony suggested Donder or Blitzen.” He curled into a giggling ball.

“Right, because that joke never gets old or anything,” said Loki sourly. He waited for Bruce to quiet down, then said, “It doesn’t even make any sense. Reindeer have antlers. My helm has horns. Antlers and horns are two entirely different things.”

“Oh, wait. Loki, he’s bringing up a good question. Do you want to use Laufeyson or Banner-Laufeyson or Laufeyson-Banner? You’ve just been going by Loki, but do you want to use your last name for this?”

“Laufeyson is not my last name. One of the perks of killing your biological father is that you don’t have to lug around his fucking name.”

Something strange crossed Bruce’s face. For a moment, Loki thought it might have been a reaction to his flippancy regarding a murder he had committed. “I never even considered that,” Bruce said wonderingly. “I guess the difference is, I like Banner.”

“What?” The air went out of the room. Loki crawled closer to Bruce. “You killed your father, too?”

Bruce, looking somewhat chagrined, pushed a fist toward Loki. “Patricide fist bump?”

Loki cradled the fist to his lips instead. He shivered. “Oh, fuck. Both of us. Oh, Bruce. Fuck.” He pulled Bruce’s hand down to his fecund belly. “We shouldn’t have done this. What about karma? We’re creating our own doom.”

Bruce assumed control of his hand once more and began rubbing Loki’s belly. “It’s not going to be like that. We’ve been washing the slate clean for a while now. And we’re not going to harm this child. We’re not going to shame him or abandon him or hurt him or terrorize him. We’re going to love him.” He drew Loki close and kissed him. “Nothing evil can be created out of love.”

***

Bruce filled Loki’s glass with blueberry smoothie and sat next to him at the breakfast bar. Loki, engrossed in his tablet, didn’t seem to notice the smoothie or Bruce. Bruce drank his own smoothie and traced patterns in the granite. Finally, he asked Loki what he was doing.

“I was picking names with Pepper, but look-- Sweaters,” said Loki. “Cashmere. On sale.” He thrust the tablet at Bruce.

“Fuck, that’s a good sale.”

Loki smirked at him. “Did someone just get a sweater boner?”

“I like this—what’s this? Graphite. Get me one of those.”

“Yeah, because a man can’t have too many gray sweaters.”

“You already have a black one in there, don’t you?”

“Fuck off, Bruce.”

“Let’s check.” Bruce laughed. “Two! You have two black sweaters in the cart!” He was relieved to find all of his fingers intact after Loki snatched the tablet away. Pregnant morning Loki was not a creature to tease. “What do they have in green?”

“Which green? Peridot or Loden?”

Bruce peered over Loki’s arm at the screen. “Mmm… Loden. Loden’s a beautiful color. Even the word sounds lovely.”

“Of course. It sounds like some variation of Loki.” He looked at Bruce suddenly. “What about Loden?”

“Loden... I love it.” Bruce grinned. “Loden.”

Loki stared at the granite. “Loden,” he repeated softly. “Something about that feels so right.” And then a shadow passed through his blue-green eyes, but he said nothing.

“Lokison. It should be Loden Lokison, shouldn’t it? That’s actually how this Norse naming convention works, right?”

Loki sipped his smoothie and stared through him. After a moment, he said softly, “I like Banner.”

Bruce stroked Loki’s knee. “I guess we need a hyphen then.”

“Yeah, sure. A hyphen.”

Bruce gave Loki’s knee a slight squeeze. “Is everything okay?” Loki nodded. Bruce picked up the tablet. “If you don’t like Loden, maybe we can find another name here. Ecru--or Cobalt?”

“I like Loden,” said Loki, but his voice was thin and his eyes were faraway. “Loden Lokison-Banner. That’s it.” He fell silent.

Although Bruce was happy to give Loki his space, he couldn’t help trying to puzzle out what might be wrong with him. “It isn’t too similar to Odin, is it?”

Loki visibly winced. “There is a similarity. That might even have been one of the reasons I liked it at first.” He frowned. “But it isn’t Odin. They don’t even sound that much alike… And…even if they did, it’s not as if that would be such a bad thing.”

“No, it isn’t.” Bruce threaded his fingers through Loki’s. He slid off the bar stool as Loki’s shoulders began to shake and drew him into a hug. He rubbed Loki’s back while the god of mischief cried quietly.

“I don’t feel angry anymore,” said Loki after a while, wiping at his eyes. “But, even after all of this time, it still hurts.”

“It will probably always hurt,” Bruce told him gently. “I think that’s just part of being alive. But sometimes our wounds deepen our compassion for the suffering we see around us. They enable us to connect in a deeper, more profound wa--” His mouth was full of Loki tongue.

As quickly as he had pounced, Loki pulled away and thrust his lips to Bruce’s ear. “My hurts wanna lick your hurts all over the kitchen floor,” he hissed.

***

Everything was green. The monster closed both its hands around Loki’s body and squeezed. Excruciating pain flared through him. Snaps and pops filled his ears. Blood spewed out of his mouth.

The Hulk threw him to the pavement in a broken heap. Loki sprawled there for a moment in agony and horror. When his mind was able to focus, only one thing filled it.

The white-lit spell glittered around his hand. He cast a series of shots at the stupid brute’s face. It stumbled around wheezing as Loki let his head droop to the ground. He felt impossibly heavy, the cold of the asphalt creeping into his devastated body, creaking as it awakened the cold inside him. He could feel himself swelling with blood that had no exit. He knew the only thing that lived inside him now was the bitter, bitter cold.

He should have felt triumphant when the giant crashed to its knees, but he felt only frost. And it was Bruce who fell beside him, staring at Loki with vacant eyes, open mouth and nostrils sparkling. With a trembling blue hand Loki stretched to touch his dead husband’s face. He closed Bruce’s eyes and withdrew his hand, veiling his own eyes with it.

Harsh sobs wracked his broken body. And then he grew very, very quiet. He called the spell, and his hand lit white. He held it close. What would it do to him? Would it have the same effect? He covered his nose and mouth with the glowing hand. He shut his eyes….

***

Bruce woke to Loki’s whimpering. He carefully enveloped Loki’s shoulders. “Baby, it’s just a dream. Wake up. It’s okay.” A wave of guilt washed over him. Loki had been having nightmares practically every night since they hit the sixth month.

Loki shivered awake. He remained silent, breathing heavily, while Bruce hugged him and stroked his face. “You’re okay,” Bruce repeated, as if it were a mantra. “Everything’s okay.”

Loki looked at him with haunted eyes. “He’s not moving.” Panic mounted in his voice, his skin pale and tight with it. “Bruce, he’s not moving.”

“How long has he been still?”

Loki’s lashes shaded his eyes. “Since just now.”

Bruce squeezed his hand and pulled away from him. He switched on the light. “I got something for you.” He retrieved it from the drawer of his nightstand. Loki was looking at him as if he had left him alone on an ice floe. “Oh, Loki,” he said, touched and saddened. He hated seeing Loki so anxious. He decided he should try it first, on the off chance something was actually wrong. He put in the earpieces, uncovered his naked Loki’s pregnant belly, and placed the bell of the stethoscope a little above Loki’s pelvis.

The fertilization stoma had disappeared soon after Loki had been impregnated, and the birthing stoma wasn’t due to appear until the eighth month. If anything were to happen to the baby at this stage, surgery would be required. The surgery to remove Paisley had been brutal.

Bruce tried to clear his mind. He followed the lower curve of belly, pressing firmly but gently. When he found the heartbeat he rewarded himself with a flourishing caress of Loki’s stomach.

He freed himself of the earpieces and handed them to Loki. His heart melted as he watched Loki’s apprehensive face break into a grin. And then he felt a stirring of something more than sentiment. Loki. Nude. Smiling. His hand low against the dome of his taut creamy belly.

He felt a sudden faintness as if every blood cell he owned had converged in his cock. Loki noticed, laughed, and wriggled his hips, making his own cock dance tauntingly. Bruce held still for a moment, letting Loki play, then attacked him like a bear lunging at a salmon. He growled a little as he caught Loki’s cock in his mouth and sucked it down his throat with a hungry urgency.

Feynman abandoned the bed and hopped on the dresser to watch. Loki hissed and squirmed with delight, and then he became very quiet and very still. He shuddered slightly as Bruce stroked his belly, hip, and inner thigh with one hand while the other fondled his balls. And then he began to tremble and whimper softly, bringing a foot up to rest on Bruce’s shoulder.

Bruce paused to greet the foot, giving it a long wet lick from narrow heel to curled toes. The action earned him a little squeal from Loki and a “Fucking Bruce!” With the elegant foot lighting on his shoulder like a pirate’s parrot, Bruce returned to the very serious business of trying to bruise the fuck out of his throat with Loki’s beautiful cock.

When Loki seemed on the verge of cumming, Bruce turned his attention to the trickster’s slender hips, nibbling and sucking them. After listening to Loki make sweet noises for a while, he stopped and mixed a little of his own precum with saliva and found Loki’s prostate. He massaged it roughly, pulling a host of helpless ‘Bruce’s’ from Loki’s throat. Pleased with himself, he crouched low to lick and kiss and love Loki’s sweet hole.

The next time he looked up, he found a bottle of lube beside him. “Thanks, Loki.”

Loki shuddered like an unbalanced washing machine. Bruce sat up, grinning, and enjoyed the sight of his trickster for a moment. He loved when he brought Loki to this state, when his beloved sorcerer god was transformed into a quavering mass of lust. He wanted to fuck Loki’s gorgeous eyes into the back of his gorgeous head, but he took a slow, steadying breath along with two pumps of lube and calmly worked Loki’s hole.

He paused to suckle Loki’s cock and nuzzle Loki’s belly. He entered slowly, with as much control as he could muster, ignoring the hindbrain urge to plunge as quickly and deeply as possible. Once he had pushed as deep as he could go, he stayed there for a moment and basked in the heat and the pressure and the warm sucking wonderfulness that was Loki’s hole.

He envied the baby. If he could curl up and sleep inside Loki, he would. And he might never leave.

But he needed to feel the violet light friction, the heat, the stroke, the stroke of the sweep out—everything pulling, pulling like a tide. And then driving, diving, the push into velvet, velvet—a world of molten lushness. Loki moaned. Surely Care Bears and baby ducks and hot caramel and summer sunlight lived in Loki’s bowels. Nothing could be so soft. Nothing could be so warm, so good, so fucking hot.

As he withdrew, the sweet, furnace suck of Loki’s rectum teased his cock into a new shape. He fucked Loki vigorously, occasionally caressing the taut quaking belly and the eager, playful cock beneath it. Panting, Loki moaned and grunted. Bruce began pumping Loki’s cock in earnest as he felt himself gathering to cum. He timed it so that they came together.

He licked Loki clean, then they snuggled. “I love you,” Bruce told Loki, stroking his chest.

“I love you more,” Loki told him, fingers ruffling his hair.

***

Bruce couldn’t remember having fallen asleep. He blinked in the light; his light was still on. Beside him, Loki snored softly. The slumbering god lay on his back with the stethoscope’s earpieces in his ears. He had fallen asleep listening to Loden’s heartbeat.

***

Loki paused to rest on a bench at the subway station. The weather was unusually cold for late September, but he was glad, for it enabled him to wear a coat. At eight months pregnant, however, even that did not completely disguise his bulk. Bruce had warned him to stay in today. There was some sort of threat, and the Avengers were on alert.

But Daenerys had caught thrush from the pigeons again, and Loki needed to pick up her medicine from the vet. True, his missions these days were not quite as exciting as the Avengers’ missions, but they were important, nonetheless. And yet-- Loki rubbed his cumbersome belly, hoping Loden would shift to the other side for a while, and wished he were with his friends.

He missed—not the excitement as much as the exhilaration of helping people. And he missed being with Bruce, even if they avoided each other when fighting. Hulk didn’t seem to be able to resist flinging Loki about, or worse, so Loki always gave Hulk a wide berth.

Growling sounds, louder than any train, thundered through the nearest tunnel. Loki rose unsteadily to his feet. An elderly woman in a crowd near the tunnel screamed. Loki rushed toward them. Although some of the people ran away from the tunnel, the elderly woman and a half dozen others stayed as if frozen.

A huge slathering head snaked out of the tunnel. Screams vied with growls. Loki shot a bolt of light at the creature’s beady eye. “Get behind me,” he told the shocked citizens. “Get to safety. Go. Now.”

He had blinded the beast’s natural eye. Only the giant cybergopher’s red mechanized eye stared at him now. The massive creature lunged at him. He unleashed a volley of shots at the creature’s snout. Black blood and yellow sparks flew into the air. Just as enormous yellow teeth were about to close on him, he teleported. The spell had only given him a few feet of breathing room, however, and it had backed him into a column just hard enough to make his head ring.

“Fuck, that’s what helms are for,” he muttered, and launched another attack on the oncoming giant cybergopher. Flesh sizzled as the bolts found their mark. The smell of burnt hair filled the station.

But the creature still came.

And then another growl issued from the tunnel. Just as the long yellow teeth reached Loki’s body, a hard tug wrenched the creature back. Something that could have been surprise flickered in the red eye as the giant cybergopher was dragged backward away from Loki.

Loki felt a very small pang of sympathy for the creature that had been about to make him lunch as he watched Hulk smash it into cybergopher oblivion. Then somehow, maybe because he was a little dazed from hitting his head, or maybe because he was still flooded with excitement from having almost been eaten by a ridiculous creature, Loki forgot that he needed to avoid Hulk until the beast was right up on him.

Loki’s hands lit with a silvery light, ready to cast the spell he, Bruce, and Tony had perfected for just such an occasion. He trembled. The Hulk crouched and stared at him with feral eyes. His breath steamed through Loki’s clothes. Loki’s pulse raced. Sweat slipped down his sides. “Namaste.” The word ascended his throat harsh and lithe as smoke. He had never quite grasped its meaning until now.

The Hulk stared at Loki for what felt like an eternity. Then he pressed his cheek against Loki’s swollen belly. Loki held his breath and let one of his hands go dark. Slowly and carefully, he stroked Hulk’s hair with his free hand, his other hand still lit and poised to cast.

And then Loden butted up against the Hulk’s cheek. Loki’s heart froze in his chest. His casting hand shook as the Hulk’s head moved slightly. But it seemed to be nothing more than a nuzzle.

Movement drew Loki’s attention. Thor and Iron Man. Loki shook his head at them. They stayed back.

“I trust you,” he told Hulk softly. He let his other hand go dark, let it join the hand petting the head of his husband’s alter ego. In as clear and calm a voice as he could muster, he began to sing, “Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens…” By the time he had reached the bridge of “My Favorite Things,” Bruce knelt beside him. Loki, laughing tearfully, hugged him. Their friends and others, all around them now, cheered.

***

They had gathered at Tony’s for a little after-gopher get together, but Loki thought Bruce really needed to go home. He did not seem to appreciate that things had gone well and was as close to being furious without becoming Hulk as Loki had ever seen him.

Loki caught him ambushing Tony near the bathroom. “It’s bad enough that he didn’t act, but what happened to you? You promised me-- Where were the rest of you?”

Tony gazed at him for a long moment. “I’m really sorry your husband and friends didn’t hurt or kill you today, but you need to get over it.”

Bruce was beside himself. “You’re not ever supposed to let me get that close to him!”

“Loki waved us away,” said Tony. “You’re always telling us to trust Loki. So we did.”

“Trust Loki, but not that monster!”

“That monster’s a part of you,” said Loki gently, intervening and allowing Tony to escape back to the party. “Stop talking about him like he’s another being. It’s just you. And you love me. In any form you take.”

Tears welled in Bruce’s eyes. “You can’t understand.” Emotion rendered his voice a harsh whisper. “If I were to hurt you—if--” His hand grazed the top of Loki’s gravid belly.

Loki caught him as he began to sob. Holding Bruce tight, Loki bundled them into a corner. Entwined, they slid to a crouch. He let the scientist cry against him for a few minutes. Then he soothed him to quiet and said, “No matter what happens, you’re not your father. You never will be. Not in any way, shape, or form.”

“I love you.” But the tone was heartbroken, remorseful.

“I love you,” said Loki and kissed his lips softly. “I could do this all day, but Daenerys needs her medicine. Let’s go home.” Loki hefted himself up.

But Bruce didn’t move from the corner. He held there, gazing at Loki with wet eyes. Loki had never seen him look so small, so lost.

Loki smiled at him. “I’ll make guava lassis, and we can watch ‘Life of Pi’ again.”

Bruce buried his face in Loki’s belly and dissolved into tears once more. Loki petted him and played with his hair, pulling it up into tufts and twisting it gently. “What immortal hand or eye, / Could frame thy fearful symmetry?”

Bruce sniffled. “No more Blake if you want me to stop crying.”

“As long as you realize,” whispered Loki, “I love the boy and the tiger. I love and accept them both.”

***

Bruce helped Loki settle into the taxi. Loki’s pale face was even paler than usual. He turned to Bruce, his voice weak and shaky, “I wanted to be certain it was real this time before I woke you, and I hoped the rain would stop.”

Rain poured down the window behind them as if they were in a car wash. It pelted the roof of the cab and roared around them. “It’s all right,” Bruce told him. “Don’t worry.” But a long needle of fear twisted through him. Loki’s contractions were coming hard and fast, and they were hitting Monday morning rush hour in a downpour.

Although he wanted to be angry at Loki’s stubbornness, he was equally distressed by the knowledge that Loki had suffered quietly, alone, for hours while letting Bruce sleep. But none of that mattered now. Now there was just the congested traffic and the hammering rain. And Loki’s accelerating contractions.

Beneath one of his hands, Bruce could feel another contraction tightening Loki’s belly; he slipped his other hand behind the small of Loki’s back and rolled it around. Beads of sweat broke out over Loki’s brow and above his lip. He knotted both of his hands around Bruce’s exposed arm. “It’s a wave,” Bruce told him. “Don’t fight it. Just let it roll over you.” Loki trembled and stifled a cry in the shoulder farthest from Bruce. “Breathe, Loki. Remember to breathe.”

Bruce breathed with Loki. When he felt Loki’s belly soften, he began rubbing it gently, dragging Loki’s hands with him like strange chains. Loki’s head lolled on the back of the seat to gaze out the side window. Rivulets of water streamed down the foggy glass. The windshield wipers whined rhythmically. “Are we almost there?” asked Loki.

The little tremor of hope in Loki’s voice prevented Bruce from answering. He didn’t know how to crush it; he couldn’t. “It’s probably going to be at least another forty minutes,” said the cab driver. “At least.”

As if on cue, another contraction wracked Loki’s body. This one was worse than the last one. Loki moaned all the way through it. When it was over, he said what Bruce was thinking. “I’m not going to make it another forty minutes,” he whispered. “I’m going to have this baby here. Now.”

“Those contractions have been coming about two and a half minutes apart,” said the cab driver, looking at Bruce from the rearview mirror. They weren’t even moving and hadn’t been for some time. “Do you know how to deliver a baby?”

Sirens wailed somewhere ahead of them. “Yes. This will be my first time in the back of a cab, but I think we can manage.”

“Do you need anything? I have hand sanitizer. I don’t know what else I have.” He began rummaging around in the front.

“The hand sanitizer would be great.” Bruce took it and sat it on the seat beside him. He pulled a couple of tee shirts out of Loki’s overnight bag.

“Bruce!” Loki was frantic with pain. Bruce helped Loki through the contraction, then kissed him softly on the lips.

“Everything’s going to be fine. We can do this.” He pulled up Loki’s black shirt and removed Loki’s pants to expose the birthing stoma. He rubbed sanitizer on his hands and around the stoma. “If you feel an urge to push with the next contraction, I want you to go ahead and push.”

Loki licked his lips and nodded. His face had a gray sheen similar to the sidewalks outside, and even his eyes seemed tinged with gray. “You’re doing such a good job,” Bruce told him. “You’re so brave, Loki. You’re the bravest person I know. I love you so much.” He rubbed his hands down Loki’s legs as Loki began to shiver.

The baby crowned, but slipped back, crowned again, then slipped back. “Something’s wrong.” Loki’s voice shook. “It shouldn’t hurt this much.”

“Loki.”

“Something’s wrong.”

“Loki.”

He began to cry. “It’s all fucked up. Like last time.” Horns blared in the rain.

“Loki!”

Loki, damp eyes wide with fear, blinked at him.

“Loki,” Bruce said gently, “I’m starting to panic. My chest is tight. We don’t need Hulk right now. Can you help me? Please?”

Loki nodded.

“Okay. Look into my eyes. I need to focus on your eyes, okay? And breathe with me.” In unison, they breathed slowly and deeply.

Loki suppressed a shudder and stretched a hand toward him. “Do you need me to fuck with your hair?”

“No, baby. Thanks. Just keep breathing with me.” As Bruce began congratulating himself for being the cleverest husband ever, he discovered something that actually did send a bolt of fear through him. “Stop pushing!”

“I can’t.”

“STOP NOW!”

Loki stared at him. For a second, Bruce felt terrible; he never yelled at Loki. “Bruce, breathe.” Loki struggled to breathe calmly. “Bruce, breathe with me.”

Bruce couldn’t have loved his Loki more. “Listen to me. Do. Not. Push. The umbilical cord is wrapped around the baby’s neck. I’m able to keep him from choking for the moment, but if you push again you’ll strangle him.”

Tears welled in Loki’s eyes. A tremor ran through him. His legs shook. He whimpered, biting his lips together. “Loki.” The cab driver had turned around in his seat. “Take my hand. When you feel the need to push, squeeze my hand instead.”

Although the gesture was nice, Bruce worried the cab driver was only making a bad situation worse. To his surprise, however, Loki grasped the cab driver’s hand as if it were a lifeline. Bruce felt a fleeting sadness that a stranger now played a role that should have been his. He also wondered if Tony would be able to outfit this guy with a new hand when this was finished.

Despite another contraction, Loki stayed wonderfully still. “That’s very good, Loki,” said the cab driver. “You are doing a very good job. It will all be over soon, and you will get to hold your baby.”

“You sound like you’ve done this before,” said Bruce, feeling like he was trying to thread a very slippery needle.

“Three times. Yes.”

Apparently, Loki was able to see a picture the man must have indicated on the dash. “Three girls. They’re beautiful.”

Finally, Bruce freed the baby. A drop of sweat stung his eye as he looked up at Loki. “Next contraction, baby. Big push.”

“I love you,” Loki said weakly.

Bruce smiled at him. “I love you.”

“You two make a good team,” said the cab driver. “Better than the Mets, I think.”

“Oh, fuck! I should hope so--” Loki bit off whatever else he was going to say as a contraction tore through him. He snarled and pushed.

And a little boy slid out into Bruce’s hands. Bruce had barely cleaned the baby’s nose and mouth when it began to mew and flail about. With the umbilical cord still attached, Bruce wrapped the tiny thing in a shirt and handed it to Loki. “Oh,” said Loki, his voice hushed with awe. “He couldn’t be more perfect.”

“What’s his name?” asked the cab driver.

“Loden something Lokison-Banner,” said Loki.

“Something?” asked the cab driver.

“We haven’t decided on a middle name,” said Bruce.

Loki cocked his head at the cab driver. “What’s your name?”

“Shantidev.”

“Loden Shantidev Lokison-Banner,” said Loki experimentally.

Bruce frowned. “Peace lord, is that what it means?”

Shantidev nodded. “Lord of peace.”

“It’s perfect,” sighed Loki.

“You created peace,” laughed Shantidev, turning back to the front as the traffic once again began to move.

Loki stared down at the little face looking up at him. “All of those times I wanted to make war… This is far better.”

***

Two and a half years later:

Daenerys clucked and scratched happily in her rooftop chicken coop as Loki, sitting cross-legged in front of her, attempted to draw the feathered fringe on her legs. Loden, on Loki’s shoulders, clucked along with her. Suddenly the toddler squeezed Loki’s neck in a rough, choking hug. “I love you, Fadir!”

“And I love you.” Loki reached back to pat the boy’s shoulder.

Loden threw his hands around Loki’s eyes. “Guess who!”

“Hmmm… I’m not sure. I think it might be the little boy sitting on my shoulders.”

Loden leaned forward and put his mouth close to Loki’s ear. In an apple-scented whisper he said, “It’s your son.”

“Thank you.” Loki whispered back. Then he cried, “It’s Loden Shantidev Lokison-Banner!” Loden giggled and celebrated with a flurry of leg swings, hammering Loki’s chest with his sneakered feet. Loki caught a foot. “You hurt me when you do that.” It didn’t, really, but he didn’t want Loden kicking anyone else.

Loden slumped against his head. “I’m sorry.”

Loki reached up to stroke the boy’s face. A little kiss greeted his hand. Loki smiled. Although Loden looked more like him, the boy’s sweetness reminded him of Bruce.

“I thought we came up here to draw pictures with Daenerys. I’m getting lonely drawing all by myself.”

Loden dismounted and stood beside him for a moment, staring at Loki with large blue-green eyes very like his own. Pale and slight, he was wearing little hemp jeans, a green tee shirt with a yellow chicken holding an umbrella, and a toddler-sized replica of Loki’s helm. Thor had given the little helm to Loden on his first birthday, and Loki had spelled it so it would grow with him. The boy’s expression was strange, vaguely troubled.

He hugged Loki suddenly, pressing his body against Loki’s arm. Gingerly, taking great care with the position of the helm, he rested the side of his face against his father’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you were lonely,” he said softly.

A cloud slipped by over their heads, painting the roof with its shadow, while the city hummed around them. Spring sunlight, pale and beautiful, washed through the clouds, bathing everything it touched in hope and light.

Loki’s heart felt too full for his chest. He bowed his head, unable to speak. Finally, he kissed the nearest little hand and cleared his throat. “I’m not lonely anymore.”

Loden pulled away, but stayed close. He stroked a tear off Loki’s face. “Fadir, are you hurt?”

Loki smiled at him. “No, I’m all better.”

Loden grinned and dropped down beside Loki. He pulled a green piece of construction paper from the stack, picked up a white crayon, and began to draw with serious intent.  
“What are you drawing?” asked Loki.

“Daenerys,” said Loden, without looking up.

“Oh, of course. Daenerys.” Loki tried to look serious. “Who are you drawing it for?”

“Pepper.”

“Again?” Nearly all of Loden’s drawings were for Pepper, Tony, or Thor. Bruce said it was because they spoiled him the most.

Loden, busily drawing, didn’t look up. “Yeah.”

“She has an extensive Daenerys collection.”

“Yeah.”

Loki couldn’t quite suppress his grin. “But one can always use another picture of Daenerys.”

Loden looked up at him, cocking his helmed head to one side. “Yeah,” he said, very sincere, notes of music in his little voice.

Loki mimicked him. “Yeah.” He grinned to himself as Loden returned to his drawing.

“Here you two are! Hanging out with Daenerys!”

“Daddy!” Loden squealed, dropping his crayons and scrambling to his feet. He was all over Bruce in a heartbeat, climbing up him until Bruce pulled the toddler into his arms.

“How’s my favorite little mountain goat?” Bruce asked Loden.

Loden crinkled his nose and put his forehead on Bruce’s and gave a soft snort. “Fine.”

“Have you been climbing all over Fadir?”

“Yes,” Loden giggled.

“What else have you been doing?”

“Stuff.”

“Stuff?” asked Bruce in mock disbelief. The boy chortled as Bruce tickled him. “Stuff?” More tickles. Loden flipped his head back, laughing.

“Drawing!!!” Loden howled.

Bruce gave him a peck on the nose and let him down. Loden’s legs were in motion before they touched the ground, and he was off to finish Pepper’s billionth Daenerys portrait. Loki stood as Bruce approached him. They embraced, kissed, and then remained entwined for a long moment, silent, sharing breath.

Loden began humming his favorite song, “The Lonely Goatherd” from “The Sound of Music.” Bruce rumbled in amusement and nuzzled Loki’s neck. “Did you watch that again today?”

“No. Oh, no. I told him it had to go on vacation. “The Sound of Music” is doing a little ecotourism in Costa Rica.” He shrugged as Bruce laughed. “God of mischief, god of lies…”

Bruce squeezed Loki’s hip. “God of sweetness, god of love.”

“Look,” said Loki suddenly. He picked up a yellow sheet of construction paper and showed it to Bruce. “He’s writing his name in runes and English now.”

Bruce marveled at the paper. “That’s really good.”

“It is, isn’t?” He beamed. “And here, watch this. Loden, let’s show Daddy our trick.”

Loden bounced up. Loki cast a multiplicity spell on himself, creating a group of Lokis. Loden turned to Bruce, grinning. “Look at all the Fadirs. That’s crazy!”

“Find the real me,” said Loki, parroted by his doppelgangers.

Loden marched up to Loki and pulled on the hem of his shirt. The other Lokis faded away. Loki knelt and swept Loden into a hug. He grinned up at Bruce. “Thor still has trouble with that one.”

“That’s..er..great. How did this come about?”

“Hide and seek, Loki style.” He wasn’t sure Bruce appreciated what a feat finding him was, but he decided not to press the issue. “We’ve also made several discoveries. We discovered Daenerys doesn’t eat goji berry and apple juice popsicles. She only eats what, Loden?”

“Chicken feed!”

“But little boys don’t eat chicken feed.”

Loden wiped imaginary chicken feed from his lips, spitting. “No. Chicken feed is bleh.”

Loki leaned toward Bruce. “We discovered that one the hard way.”

Bruce chuckled, and Loki pressed close to him. “Those popsicles are good.”

“I’ll make more.”

“I ate three of them today.”

“I wish I’d been here to watch you eat them,” he whispered, stroking Loki’s side.

“We still have two. You could feed them to me.” Loki could tell by the change in cadence of the scientist’s breath that he had sparked a big thumping erection. He pressed close and slid his body against Bruce’s. Yes, there it was.

Bruce’s arms wrapped around Loki. “I think Loden needs dinner, a bath, and bed soon. Very soon.”

Loden stood up from his artwork. “I’m not dirty or sleepy,” he said petulantly. “I’m not going to bed ever.” Before Loki or Bruce could say anything, a group of Lodens appeared, all cackling in utter delight.

“I thought,” said Bruce, “we agreed not to teach him magic till later."

Loki stared at his son in wonder. “I haven’t been teaching him. I guess he just copied me.”

Bruce groaned, “Bedtime just became so much more fun.”

“I can tell which one is the real Loden,” said Loki.

“But I can’t,” said Bruce.

“You’ll have to learn.” He smirked at Bruce. “I'm sure you could learn with the right incentive.”

Bruce laughed. Loki left him to pick the correct dancing Loden from the group. “I don’t want to go to bed,” Loden grumbled as the other Lodens dispersed.

“It’s not bedtime yet,” Loki assured him. “We’ll have dinner first.”

Bruce knelt next to Loden. “And you can play with your sharks and snakes in the bath.”

“They’re getting married,” said Loden. “The biggest shark and the biggest snake.”

“They’re going to need lots of bubbles,” said Bruce knowingly, as if he had planned many weddings for rubber sharks and plastic snakes.

Loki tried not to laugh. “So that’s fun. A snake and shark wedding, lots of bubbles, more sharks and snakes. Doesn’t that sound fun?” Loden nodded. “And then,” said Loki, “when you’re all nice and clean, Daddy will read you a story.”

“And you will pet my hair?” Loden asked.

“And I will pet your hair,” said Loki, pulling a dark lock from beneath the helm.

Just the slight touch made the toddler blink sleepily. “Okay.”

As the sun set, painting the sky with gold and purple hues, they bid Daenerys adieu, gathered up the artwork and supplies, and tromped off to the apartment, singing a hodgepodge of verses from “The Lonely Goatherd.”

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Soprano for finding my typos and mistakes!


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